


Hero

by legendofthesevenstars



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Autistic Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles), Coming of Age, Family Drama, Gen, Growing Up, Health Issues, Mentors, Pre-Canon, Shulk Has ADHD, Swordfighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29864085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendofthesevenstars/pseuds/legendofthesevenstars
Summary: Growing up, Shulk struggles with health problems, trouble focusing and socializing at school, and a foster father who doesn’t always listen. But he makes fast friends with Fiora and Reyn, and Dunban, his idol since he was a young child, promises to train him if he makes it into the Colony 9 Defence Force. As he spends more time with Dunban, Shulk soon becomes uncomfortably aware that his mentor’s alcohol addiction is destroying him from the inside, hurting not just Fiora, but himself. Shulk seeks the courage to help his mentor, because underneath and in spite of it all, he still sees the man whose strength he admired as a child.
Relationships: Dickson & Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles), Dunban & Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles), Fiora & Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles), Reyn & Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	Hero

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for a Big Bang that ended up falling through. We were encouraged to post our final products, and I am very happy to share this piece.
> 
> “Real power comes from within. Believe in your own true strength, Shulk!” – Dunban

Only a few months had passed since Shulk had come back to Colony 9 with Dickson, but it felt like years. He’d been afraid to go anywhere or even leave his room, since Mummy and Daddy wouldn’t be able to come along anymore. Dickson always said now that they had gotten stuck in the mountains and wouldn’t be able to come back. But the first time Shulk asked, he’d said they weren’t coming back because they’d been buried under the snow. Shulk always dreamt of snow crashing down on him like waterfalls, and there was no one to grab his hand and save him. No Mummy, no Daddy, and no Dickson.

Dickson had seemed a little scared of him at first. He flinched away whenever Shulk tried to hug him. Shulk had nestled into Mummy’s side when she was home in the morning, and hugged Daddy when he came home from the Commercial District in the afternoon. But Dickson didn’t like hugs. Shulk was a little scared of Dickson. He had a mustache, like the scary, loud Colonel who led the Defence Force. He owned guns. He drank alcohol and he smoked cigars. But Dickson had never been mean to Shulk, and he wasn’t scary or loud. He just didn’t like hugs, and he always got really tired just when Shulk asked him for a bedtime story.

After what had happened to Mummy and Daddy, Shulk wanted to stay inside. He was scared of going outside, because leaving the Colony was how Mummy and Daddy had been swallowed by the snow. Dickson had other ideas. He wanted to take Shulk out of the house to get some fresh air. Shulk was scared, but he remembered the first time Mummy had taken him and Daddy on a picnic outside the colony. He’d used to run around and play outside with Daddy, chase after Bunnits in the fields, watch Krabbles creep across the sandy shores of the lake. Shulk was scared of the outside, but he missed the outside, and he missed the sunlight especially.

Ever since Shulk had come back from the mountains, walking on his own was hard. He’d used to have so much energy, but now he got tired really fast. Dickson said it wasn’t normal for a kid his age. So the man who worked in the lab made him adjustable braces out of Mechon parts to support his legs. Shulk loved his braces, not just because they helped him walk, but because he loved anything made of metal, even the smallest scraps. He wanted to be just like the man who worked in the lab when he grew up. And luckily for him, the Military District was where Dickson was taking him on their first outing since the mountains.

“I want to go to the lab right away!” Shulk swung Dickson’s hand back and forth as the gate to the Military District came into view. “The man in the lab makes so many cool things. I want to see all of those things!”

“We’ll stop there on the way out, kid. I got a few things to check on first.”

The metal portions of the gate reflected the sun’s bright white light, and though the glare made Shulk squint, he marveled at the giant gate and relished in the sun’s warmth. The gate gave way to the grounds, where soldiers milled about carrying boxes, holding clipboards and discussing important things, and doing press-ups. Someone was cleaning a giant gun, and someone was folding a big metal shield in half. There were lots of other weapons like the shield and gun. Most fascinating of all were the long swords that gleamed in the sunlight. Shulk pulled on Dickson’s hand and slowed his uneven steps, stopping in his tracks to stare open-mouthed at the clanging swords.

Coolest of all was a tall, brown-skinned man with wavy black hair cascading to his shoulders, whose Defence Force fatigues seemed a little large on him. He smirked when his blade met his opponent’s, pushing his body into the strike and drawing back effortlessly when their swords unlocked. Every movement the tall man made was elegant, like a Flamii alighting on the shores at dawn.

When the tall man had knocked his opponent’s sword to the ground, he turned toward Dickson and Shulk, brushing his hair back with one hand. He stuck his hip out and set his other hand on it. Shulk started worrying the side of his sweater with his free hand. His palms were sweaty, and his fingers shook. The tall man was so cool and he made Shulk so nervous—but so excited!

“Long time no see, old man,” the tall man said in a deep voice. It wasn’t scratchy or rough like Dickson’s, but he had to be super old if Dickson knew him. Shulk looked up at Dickson to see how he would react to the cool swordsman.

Dickson smirked with a “heh.” “You’re getting better, kid.”

Shulk gasped. But “kid” was what Dickson called _him_! Maybe Dickson really was super, super old. Or maybe he just called everyone “kid.”

“Are you the survivor?” the swordsman asked.

Shulk swallowed and looked up at the man. His gentle gaze was fixed on Shulk, but Shulk’s words weren’t coming to him, and all he could do was play with his sweater. That always happened around new people, though Mummy and Daddy had always spoken up for him when he couldn’t get his words. He hoped Dickson would do the same.

“Yeah. This is Shulk. He’s the one came back with the Monado and all.”

“Unbelievable,” the man said. “My name is Dunban. I’m a trainee in the Defence Force with Dickson.”

Shulk smiled. His hands were still damp, so he let go of Dickson’s hand and started worrying both edges of his sweater. It was hard to keep meeting Dunban’s eyes, since he didn’t know him very well.

“I have a sister your age, you know,” Dunban said, in a voice that was different from the one he’d used to say hi to Dickson. “Her name is Fiora. I think you two would be great friends.”

 _But I want to wield a sword, just like you_. He mashed his lips together, trying to keep up the smile for Dunban even if he couldn’t speak.

Dunban chuckled. “Are you shy?”

“He’s still working at coming out of his shell,” Dickson said.

Turning to Dickson, Dunban said, “Fiora talks to every stranger she sees. She’s always got questions to ask. I’m sure they’ll be a perfect match.”

Shulk curled his sweater in his hands. He had a lot of questions to ask Dunban, but he didn’t want to bother him, and Dickson still had a lot to do before they left.

“We can set something up when Shulk gets a little more settled in,” Dickson said. He slapped Dunban on the shoulder. “And loosen up a bit, won’t you? I don’t know what this act of yours is all about. You trying to impress the girls?”

“I’m not acting,” Dunban said in the voice he’d used for Dickson. He stuck his hip out further and threw his head back. “And I’m not trying to impress anyone.”

“Sure, sure, you’re the sharpest lad in the Force.” Dickson looked down at Shulk and winked, then offered his hand. “Let’s go, Shulk. Wouldn’t want to miss out on a trip to the lab, would ya?”

Shulk nodded enthusiastically, grabbing onto Dickson’s hand. As Dunban waved goodbye, he couldn’t help feeling excited that he might be seeing more of the swordsman in the future.

—

Shulk turned five. He was almost always at home with Dickson. Sometimes Dickson took him out to the Commercial or Military Districts, but they hadn’t left the colony. Shulk sometimes saw Dunban in the Military District. He had grown even taller, and now he was trying to grow a beard. It looked scratchy and fuzzy, unlike the stubble that appeared on Dickson’s jaw when he hadn’t shaved.

Dickson had started teaching Shulk at home. He learned the alphabet and how to read and write. He also started learning numbers and how to count. Then he turned six. That meant he was going to go to school soon. But he hadn’t been around other kids, so Dickson decided to introduce him to Dunban’s sister, Fiora. Shulk was going to Dunban’s house in the evening for a playdate, and he was beyond excited. He’d never forgotten how cool Dunban had looked when he swung a sword. He was like the heroes in the bedtime stories Dickson now read to him every evening, just like Mummy and Daddy had done.

He was less nervous about meeting Dunban and more nervous about meeting someone his age. The other kids at the markets in the Commercial District and Residential District ran around freely, without any metal braces on their legs. They didn’t have any problems walking, just like when Shulk had used to run up and down the grass hills outside the colony during picnics with Mummy and Daddy. But now, Shulk was weak. Something had happened in the mountains that had hurt his body and made him weak, instead of strong like a kid should be. Dunban said Fiora was full of energy. Would she be disappointed when she found out Shulk wouldn’t be able to run as fast as she could?

He clutched Dickson’s hand tightly as Dickson knocked on the door of Dunban’s house, right outside the Commercial District.

Dunban came to the door, his hair tied back in a ponytail and a smirk on his face. “Hey, Dickson. Hello, Shulk.”

Shulk managed a small wave. Footsteps pounded down the stairs behind Dunban, and a blonde-haired girl appeared. She wore a plain green and brown dress that came to her knees, and brown stockings. Her peachlike face was covered with freckles, and she had big green eyes. She reminded Shulk of a sunbeam, and she was totally different from Dunban.

“Hi! Are you Shulk?” the girl asked, in a bright, cheery voice. “I’m Fiora!” She offered her hand. “It’s nice to meet you!”

“Hi, Fiora,” Shulk said, shaking her hand and trying to meet her eyes for a moment before he had to look away.

“Shulk’s a little shy at first, but don’t let it bother you, girlie,” Dickson said. “I’m sure he’ll open up in no time.”

Shulk smiled, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. Dickson whispered something to Dunban, and Dunban replied with, “Understood,” before Dickson waved goodbye.

“Why don’t you two go upstairs?” Dunban said. “There’s plenty of room to play up there. I’ve got an exam to study for.”

A book was lying open on the kitchen table. A canteen, a few sheets of parchment, and a pencil sat next to it.

“Okay,” Fiora said, tugging on the sleeve of Shulk’s sweater. “Let’s go to my room so we don’t bother Dunban.”

Shulk walked slowly after her upstairs, holding onto the railing. Stairs were not always easy; sometimes his knees would still falter even if he took it slow. He reached the top of the stairs and turned to the right before she could direct him to the left, and saw all the swords leaning on a rack next to the window. Gasping in awe, he walked over to the swords, marvelling at the sheathed blades.

“That’s Dunban’s stuff,” Fiora whispered. “You’re not supposed to touch it.”

Shulk laced his hands behind his back to show Fiora he wasn’t going to touch anything. He inspected each sword, looking them up and down, though he didn’t dare remove them from the rack.

“He uses those in the Defence Force. He’s been training ever since I was a baby. Isn’t your dad in the Force, too?”

Shulk scratched the back of his neck, turning to Fiora. “Dickson’s not my dad.” He hoped his words would come through now when he needed them, because it was hard to explain what had happened to Mummy and Daddy. He knew now that they definitely weren’t coming back. And he was starting to doubt that they had been swallowed by the snow, because it didn’t explain how he and Dickson had escaped.

“My Mummy and Daddy went to the mountains. No one but me and Dickson came back.”

“Oh, you’re the survivor!”

Shulk nodded. He averted his eyes, expecting her to apologize about Mummy and Daddy.

But instead, she said, “We don’t have our mummy and daddy neither. Daddy died when I was just a baby. And Mummy died just recently. She was very sick.” She looked at the floor, wringing her hands. “And now I’m scared,” she whispered. “Come to my room, and I’ll tell you why.”

He followed her into her room. He barely had a moment to take in his surroundings before she closed the door behind them and sat down on the floor, folding her hands in her lap. Slowly, Shulk lowered himself to sit down, looking from Fiora’s hands to her face. She was frowning.

“Dunban is very sad,” she said. “He never smiles like he used to. He’s always trying to act super cool and brave, but that’s not really what he’s like. He’s really scared. He has lots of nightmares. And sometimes he screams and cries.”

Shulk couldn’t believe that the cool, composed swordsman he’d met would ever scream or cry or be afraid of anything. But his and Fiora’s mummy had just died. Shulk had had a lot of nightmares when he first came back from the mountains. It would make sense if Dunban were scared, too.

“Dunban’s only eighteen. He’s just now become a grown-up. He’s going to graduate school soon. Then he’ll be training in the Force full-time, just like he always wanted to.” Fiora played with the edges of her dress. “He says it’s to protect me. But sometimes he seems really grumpy. And I’m scared, because he’s always been so nice and happy.

“I’m sorry.” She lowered her head. “I know I’m supposed to be playing with you, not talking. I haven’t been able to play with anyone since Mummy died, but Dunban never wants to talk about it.”

She started to sniffle. Shulk went rigid. He wasn’t really sure how to deal with someone crying, and all the information she had dumped on him was a lot to process. He started working the edges of his sweater in his hands again. The silence in the room was ringing in his ears, but Fiora’s sniffling was even more grating. What would Mummy and Daddy say to _him_ if _he_ started crying? What would Dickson say?

“Don’t cry,” he said. “Why don’t we play instead?”

“You’re right.” Fiora wiped her nose with her wrist. “If Dunban hears me, he’ll get all worried.” She looked up at Shulk and smiled.

“Have you ever met the man who makes weapons and other things out of Mechon parts?” Shulk said. “He made the braces on my legs that help me walk. I want to be like him one day. But I also want to fight and wield a sword. Do you want to pretend to fight?”

“Okay,” Fiora said evenly, getting to her feet. “We can go outside and find sticks. Those can be our swords.”

They walked downstairs, and as they passed by the kitchen, Shulk looked over at Dunban sitting at the table, his forehead buried in one hand, the other on the table. How could that skilled swordsman be the same scared older brother Fiora had described? It was hard to believe. Dunban was still the coolest person he’d ever seen. Shulk was certain that when he was older, he would be as smart as the man who made things out of Mechon parts and as strong and determined as Dunban.

—

Shulk’s first two years of school were tough. Thankfully, he never had to sit still for very long. They often broke for recesses. But he found it hard to play with more than a couple other kids at once, and he got overwhelmed with all the kids talking, playing, and even yelling and screaming around him. Sometimes their noisy voices grated on his ears so much that he shoved them away or ignored them to try and get them to stop. The teacher told not to shove his classmates, but he wasn’t trying to be mean. It was the same as when he lost his words; sometimes, everything was just too much for him, even if it was just him and Fiora.

He was glad Dickson and Dunban had introduced him to Fiora. She didn’t think it was strange that he sometimes got overwhelmed, or that he couldn’t walk without his braces and had lots of allergies. Some kids looked at him funny and called him “the survivor.” Shulk had started to hate that word, and he was really getting fed up with kids acting scared around him. Why was it scary that he had survived? It was scarier that he had lost his parents.

Thankfully, most of the kids were nice. One kid who was a little tall for his age had introduced himself to Shulk and Fiora right away. His name was Reyn, and he said he wanted someone to play with, because he didn’t really have anyone. Reyn could be a little loud sometimes, but after he realized that loud sounds hurt Shulk’s ears, he’d try to quiet down, even if they were chasing each other or playing tag. Reyn wanted to fight, too. He loved playing sword with Shulk, but he was a little too strong, and sometimes knocked Shulk down. He always said sorry and helped him to his feet. Shulk didn’t think he had to say sorry, because he liked Reyn. He was really nice, and he would never actually hurt Shulk.

Shulk had gotten more used to Dickson, and he had stopped thinking about Mummy and Daddy all the time. He was almost eight, and now his life as a very young child with Mummy and Daddy seemed like a long time ago. It still bothered him that Dickson always smoked cigars and drank alcohol. But Dickson still had never been mean to him at all, so even though the smell of smoke made him cough and sneeze, he just stayed away from Dickson when he was smoking.

He only saw Dunban now and then, most often when he was at Fiora’s house. Now that Dunban had graduated, it seemed like he was always away from the house. Shulk wasn’t sure about being home alone when he was only eight, but he wasn’t scared as long as Reyn and Fiora were with him. Mainly he was afraid that if something bad happened, there wouldn’t be a grown-up. So he tried to bring them over to Dickson’s, even if he was a little embarrassed about the smell of the smoke. But Reyn and Fiora had never complained about it.

One of these times, though, Shulk was determined to catch Dunban before he ran out. Dickson kept making jokes about how Dunban was chasing girls. Fiora said that wasn’t true. Her brother wasn’t dating anyone, girls or boys. He’d been spending a lot of time training. But whenever she said that, she frowned. Was training really the only thing keeping him away from home? Fiora must be getting lonely, and she seemed worried, too. Shulk wondered if she was telling the whole truth.

One afternoon, the three of them were looking at bugs in the garden in front of her and Dunban’s house after school when Dunban walked in, the door creaking behind him.

Shulk said, “I need some water. I’m going to head in quick.”

Fiora was engrossed in the worm crawling up her arm, but Reyn turned his head slightly as Shulk stood up and walked in the house.

Dunban was sitting at the table. There was a small canteen open next to him, into which he was pouring an amber liquid from a glass bottle. When Shulk cleared his throat and greeted him, he set the bottle at his feet.

“Ah, yes, Shulk? Is there something you need?”

“Can I have some water?”

Dunban stood up, poured Shulk a glass of water, and handed it to him. “Is that all?”

“No. I want to ask you something.”

“Go on,” he said. Shulk walked closer to him, and he pushed the canteen away. But Shulk smelled something he recognized.

“What are you drinking?”

“It’s nothing you can have. What did you want to ask?”

“How did you learn to fight?” Shulk was still determined to pursue his line of questioning to try and get to know Dunban better. But when he’d seen the liquid descending from the bottle, something had changed that he couldn’t quite name.

“I was thirteen when I first picked up a sword. I was a right mess at first. Without my mentor in the Defence Force, I wouldn’t have amounted to anything. I’m still a trainee, of course, so I haven’t seen any real battles, but if I ever have to, I’ll do all it takes to fend off the Mechon.”

“And you met Dickson after you joined?”

“Dickson’s lived in Colony 9 for a while. Not originally from the area, but then, the other colonies were destroyed in the last twenty years or so, thanks to the Mechon.”

Shulk didn’t know much about the Mechon, but he understood now why his parents had gone to the mountains with Dickson. They’d been searching for the Monado, the legendary sword of the Bionis that would protect them from the Mechon. There just hadn’t been anyone who could wield the Monado, not yet.

“I want to help fight them off one day,” Shulk said. “When I’m old enough, I’m going to work in the lab. I want to discover the secret of the Monado.”

“The Monado, huh?” Dunban grinned. “Wouldn’t you know it, the Defence Force is going to hold a contest to find out who can best wield the Monado. We’re going to need it if the Mechon ever attack us again.”

“And are you going to take part in that contest?”

Dunban nodded. “Naturally. Who wouldn’t want to lead the charge?” He leaned back in his chair. “It’s more than that. I’m sure Fiora’s told you what happened to our father. It’s my duty to avenge his death.”

“Reyn’s mum and dad got killed by the Mechon, too,” Shulk said quietly.

“Many lost their lives in that attack.” Dunban lifted the canteen to his lips and drank. “It makes me furious.”

There was that smell he recognized again. There was no doubt, whatever was in that canteen wasn’t that different from anything Dickson drank.

“Why don’t you go back outside with Fiora,” Dunban said. He took another sip.

“Wait, Dunban. Won’t you promise me something?”

Dunban looked at him. The alcohol was thick on his breath now. “What?”

Eight-year-old Shulk was telling five-year-old Shulk that something about this was a big mistake. But five-year-old Shulk still saw the coolest guy he’d ever met sitting in front of him. And five-year-old Shulk wanted to help the colony as much as eight-year-old Shulk did.

“Will you teach me how to wield a sword?”

“I will, I promise,” Dunban said, offering a shaky smile. “Go on, Fiora and Reyn must be wondering where you are.”

Feeling giddy with Dunban’s promise, Shulk downed his glass of water and rushed back outside, all but forgetting his worry over what had been inside that canteen.

—

Five years passed. Shulk continued to watch Dunban and the other Defence Force soldiers from a distance, even as he began his apprenticeship with Erik at the Weapon Development Lab. Now that he actually had the chance to work hands-on with metal rather than just playing with Mechon parts, he threw himself into crafting. He always had a wrench or screw in hand, making boxes, toys, and other trinkets for Reyn and Fiora, and even fixing Dickson’s rifle. After he’d got the hang of the tools and turned thirteen, Erik started showing him how to craft weapons. He knew how to make basic knives by the time the Defence Force tryouts that year came around, the first year he would be eligible.

Unfortunately, Shulk was disqualified on the grounds of his physical. Though he had not walked with his braces for four years, the doctor told him he had “concerningly low bone density.” Dickson told him he needed to drink more milk. Reyn told him he needed to start lifting heavy objects. Fiora warned him not to push himself too hard. And Dunban hadn’t said anything, but then, Shulk hadn’t asked him yet.

As they grew up, Shulk, Fiora, and Reyn started spending less time at Dunban or Dickson’s house and more time running around the outside of the colony or playing with other kids. The only time they might get to see Dunban was at dinner, when he brought them the free meals he got from the barracks. Fiora had warned them all that he was a terrible cook, and she was grateful for the meals. They were all Reyn ate, too, since his foster parents were both in the Defence Force. Fiora and Reyn seemed to enjoy going over to Shulk’s house a lot more because they said the food tasted marginally better, but Shulk couldn’t really tell the difference, except that Dickson’s curry was a little less runny than the one the Defence Force cooks made, and the bread wasn’t nearly as hard because he bought it fresh.

Dinner was also better at home because Dickson kept them company, asking them questions about school that got more irritating the older and busier they got. At Dunban’s house, as soon as Dunban got home, he either wolfed down his dinner as fast as he could, or went upstairs, saying he had a headache, and ate up there. He was usually rushing out the door right after he got home. If Shulk or Reyn ever tried to ask him something, his answers were curt and sharp. When he returned in the evening, he was angry and irritable, and he walked around hunched over, clutching his head and stomach. And Fiora always looked at her food and not at him.

Fiora had always been a good student. She was brighter than Reyn and better at paying attention than Shulk. She was friends with almost everyone because she was so nice. But sometimes, she stared into space during class, frowning. When Shulk asked what was wrong, she wouldn’t tell him. Maybe it was a family problem, and Dunban and Fiora only talked about it when Shulk and Reyn weren’t around. Maybe they missed their mother. Shulk had all but forgotten his parents.

But he knew his parents would want him to research the Monado. He had begun to think of it as the last gift they had left him. He and Dickson had been the sole survivors of the Monado Expedition, and Dickson refused to wield the Monado, saying he was a poor swordsman. When Shulk expressed his dreams of becoming a powerful swordsman like Dunban and uncovering the secret of the Monado, Dickson encouraged him to pursue them. Shulk was ten when the contest was held, and Dunban emerged as the victor. He remembered Dunban’s promise to him, and knew it was his destiny for Dunban to teach him the way of the sword. If only he could get him to stick around for longer than a few minutes while he was at Fiora’s.

But after his failed physical, he’d had enough. He needed to know what was holding him back from becoming stronger. Dunban had enrolled at the minimum age of thirteen. Shulk was determined to be eligible the next time the tryouts came around.

After school, Shulk was supposed to head to the lab and meet Erik, but it wouldn’t be for another hour; Erik took a break after the training dismissal every day. He’d been late once last week, and being late again this week might be pushing it, not with Erik but with their supervisor, Arnaut. He broke away from Reyn and Fiora, bowing out of their usual walk home to the Residential District together to run to the Commercial District. If Fiora suspected he was going to see Dunban, she said nothing.

Shulk’s knees ached by the time he got to the door, but when he came inside, Dunban was, thankfully, sitting right there at the table. When Shulk looked at him, his eyes went wide.

“Shulk, is something the matter?” Steadying himself against the table with one hand, he got to his feet and walked over to Shulk.

“Nothing’s the matter,” Shulk wheezed, coughing. His ribs were aching, and he doubled over, groaning in pain. Now he understood why he hadn’t passed his physical.

“Did you run here? _Sprint_ here? You shouldn’t have pushed yourself like that!” Placing a hand on his back, Dunban guided him to one of the chairs. Shulk took a seat, and Dunban poured him a glass of water and set it in front of him. “Your health is in no state to sprint over here from school.”

Shulk drank half the glass, breathing in relief as the water slid down his dry throat. Once he was able to breathe properly again, he said, “I’m really not that bad, I swear. There were just too many other kids trying out for the Force this year. I know I can get stronger and do it, and that’s why I need your help.”

He looked at Dunban to gauge his reaction. Dunban quirked a single brow, tapping his fingers against the table like Fiora did when she spaced out in class.

“You ran here… to ask me to give you advice?”

“I wanted to catch you before you left again. You’re always leaving early. So I figured I’d better make it home before Fiora does, because then you’ll be out the door.”

Dunban said nothing, though his eyes darted from side to side. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

“Never mind that. What are you here to ask?”

Shulk’s heart was pounding in his ears. Finally! It felt like years since he’d had a proper one-on-one conversation with the man he so badly wanted to be his mentor. Though he continued to escape Shulk’s grasp, bordering on enigmatic now, Shulk was determined to pry some semblance of guidance out of the most skilled swordsman in the Force—and the rightful wielder of the Monado.

“How do I get strong enough to be accepted into the Defence Force?” He bowed his head slightly. His fingers drifted to the hem of his sweater, and he started curling it in his hands. “I know I have trouble breathing sometimes, and my legs weren’t the best growing up. But I have to get stronger if I ever hope to protect Colony 9 from the Mechon.”

“I’m no doctor, but has Dickson suggested ether supplements?”

Shulk lifted his head. “Ether supplements?”

“If you have a natural deficiency, that might be contributing to some of your health problems. In particular, being short of breath and feeling weak and fatigued. It’s also important to have enough ether when you fight, because you’ll need to draw on your inner ether to conjure auras. Without auras, fighting properly will be a challenge.”

“Auras?” Shulk knew a little bit about auras from the assigned readings in history class and from what Erik had told him about fighting.

“I wouldn’t be half the swordsman I am without auras. It took me a long time to develop a coherent style, certainly, but it also took me a long time to learn how to use auras properly.

“You may want to consider ether therapy as well. Not only will that ease your joint pain, a low dose of ether will also strengthen your muscles.”

“Ether therapy…” Shulk folded the hem of his sweater over and over in his hands, thinking.

“I’m not sure if it’ll help. You should discuss it with Dickson and figure out if it’s the most fitting thing to do.” He laughed, a short “heh.” “Then again, he could also be right about that milk. If you’re not getting enough dairy, your bones will weaken.”

Shulk’s face flushed. “I have a little trouble digesting it, but I’m trying to drink more.”

“Anyway, a few things to keep in mind.” Then Dunban groaned, clutching his head. “I’m sorry, Shulk, but it seems I’ve got a headache. I’m going to have to go upstairs and rest a bit.”

Shulk frowned. He wasn’t going to let Dunban get away without asking his last question.

“Wait, Dunban.”

“What?” Dunban was getting to his feet, making to walk upstairs. He stumbled, clutching his head and wincing.

“Remember when I was a kid, you made me a promise?”

“What promise?”

Shulk stood up and faced Dunban, who had his back turned. “You promised you would teach me how to wield a sword. Now that you’re the one learning to use the Monado, if I make it in the Force the next time tryouts come around, I want you to be my mentor!”

Dunban clutched the banister. He was trying to offer Shulk a smile, but wouldn’t turn to face him, and his expression was twisting in pain.

“I will, Shulk. Of course I’ll help you. But take care—of your health first.” Dunban groaned, sinking to one knee.

“Dunban?!” Shulk rushed over to him, kneeling over him. Then Dunban pushed him away firmly with his other hand.

“Get out, Shulk!” he shouted, stinging Shulk’s ears and making him wince. Then he got to his feet and clambered up the stairs. Shulk stood frozen, and when he didn’t move, Dunban added, “Before Fiora gets back!”

Shulk ran out of the house. Fiora was nowhere in sight, but he tore up the hill and out of the colony, the grass softening under his feet. Before he’d left, he’d heard Dunban hit the bed with a thump, and then the unscrewing of a container. At Fiora’s tenth birthday party—which was just her, Dunban, Shulk and Reyn—Dunban had that canteen next to him, just like when he’d made the promise to Shulk two years earlier. And he was drinking out of it, and his breath smelled, and Fiora had yelled at him and told him to _go upstairs if he wanted to drink_. Had he been opening that same canteen? Why was he always leaving the house? Why had he told Shulk to go away? And why did Fiora look down all the time?

He finally stopped, kneeling in the grass in front of a tree. His heart thumped in his throat, his ribs ached, and his face was flushed with exertion. His cheeks burned hotter as tears wet the corners of his eyes. He _was_ making a mistake. He buried his face in his hands and sobbed. Dunban was drinking. He was drinking, and that was what made Fiora frown and stare into space during class. He’d told Shulk about the ether supplements and ether therapy, even as he was destroying his own health.

Shulk couldn’t let this go on. Not for Dunban and not for Fiora. He had wanted to know the man who had impressed him the first time he’d seen people fighting with swords, the man who had beat out everyone else in the Defence Force to wield the Monado. To him, Dunban was still the pinnacle of a hero: the kind of person who would give his life to protect the colony. And he knew Dunban was still strong and selfless past all the drinking. He needed to pull him out, to reach into that fog. To see the paragon of strength that Dunban really was, the man he had always thought he admired, and the brother that Fiora thought she had loved.

—

“You seem sort of down, Shulk,” Fiora observed during lunch the day after.

“It’s really nothing,” Shulk stuttered. He didn’t want to talk about it. He would embarrass Fiora, or worse, make her angry that he’d come to see Dunban and she hadn’t been there. It seemed like Dunban only drank upstairs or while he was out, so she wouldn’t want him to find out, even if it had been obvious at her tenth birthday party. He spared a quick glance at Reyn. Did he remember that day, too?

“You’re still gutted about the tryouts, I know it,” Reyn said through a mouthful of sandwich. Reaching his hand across the table, he squeezed Shulk’s wrist. “Just finish all those vegetables in your curry and you’ll be on the right track in no time.”

Shulk grimaced at the green bits in his lunchbox. At least the Defence Force knew to only use carrots when they made theirs. Dickson always insisted on leafy vegetables, which he couldn’t stand.

“It would be easier trying to get Shulk to say something more about my cakes and breads than, ‘Mmm, delicious,’” Fiora said.

Reyn shrugged. “What else is there to say? D’you expect ’im to give a full critique?”

Shulk offered a short laugh, but turned back to his curry and rice as Fiora and Reyn continued their banter. He really didn’t feel all that hungry.

That afternoon, he told Erik that his stomach hurt and he needed to go home early. When he got home, there was a bottle of milk on the kitchen table, chilling in an ice bucket. He poured half a glass and sat down. Then he pulled his history book out of his bag and opened it to the assigned reading on warfare tactics. A moment later, the door swung open. Dickson carried all the ingredients for dinner in the basket he set on the table.

“You’re back earlier than I expected,” he said. He walked toward his room, and Shulk wouldn’t have to turn his head to know how he unbuckled his armor and struggled out of his Defence Force turtleneck. Every day, he’d always said, “Hate this thing,” and Shulk had said it to himself, matching Dickson’s exact timing. But as Shulk got older, he stopped saying it, and soon Shulk stopped repeating it to himself, too.

“Back into good old blue,” Dickson said once he’d emerged from his room. “What’s going on, kid? Did Erik let you go early?”

“No, I have a lot of homework to get started on. Though I was a bit late today.”

“Gotcha.”

The pan clanged as Dickson freed it from the rack. Without turning toward him, Shulk said, as casually as he could manage, “Did the doctor say I might have an ether deficiency?”

“Is this something you talked about in health class?”

“Do I have it or not, Dickson?”

“Sheesh, kid, what’s your problem? Yeah, you’ve got a bit of an ether deficiency, but it’s nothin’ that’ll kill you. If anything, your ether should be pretty damn stable, spending all that time around that Monado.”

Shulk stared more intently at the words on the page, though he wasn’t reading them. He’d started jiggling his leg when he sat down to help him focus on the assignment, and now he was jiggling it even faster. Dickson was chopping vegetables now, _clack, clack, clack_.

“Then should I be getting treatment for that?”

“It’s best not to mess with your natural ether level. Can have some pretty bad side effects if it’s not the exact right dosage, and you’re pretty fragile.”

“I’m tired of being fragile!” Shulk slammed his fist on the table, shaking the glass and making waves in the milk. “I can’t even drink milk to make my bones stronger because it upsets my stomach. I can’t even run without choking half to death. And I wouldn’t be able to defend myself if the colony got attacked by Mechon!”

Dickson still wasn’t looking at him. He hadn’t even flinched. He just continued stirring the vegetables and oil he’d poured into the pan. “You got nothing to worry about, kid. Dunban’s got the Monado. All you gotta do is help him figure it out.”

“I don’t want to do it from the sidelines!” Shulk used everything he had to hold back his tears. He hated how he always teared up when he got angry, but he needed to get his point across. “I want to pass my tryouts, and if I need ether supplements to make me strong enough to do it, then I don’t care about any side effects!”

“All right, all right!” Dickson looked over his shoulder, his head turned to the side, looking at Shulk in his peripheral vision. “Just settle down. I’ll take you to the doctor after I’m dismissed tomorrow.” He paused a moment before he said, “Didn’t realize you were so hellbent on joining the Force. Thought you just went out for the tryouts because Erik told you to.”

“Then maybe you need to pay more attention!” Shulk spat. “And stop—stop smoking and drinking all the time!”

“Where’d this come from?” Dickson laughed, making Shulk’s stomach twist. “You worried I’m gonna die? I’ve had this same lifestyle for longer than you’ve been alive, and it ain’t killed me yet. One drink’d probably knock you right out. But where you’d be hammered, I’d be as sober as the day I was born.”

Shulk wanted to say more about the drinking, but he risked making it about Dunban instead of Dickson. “I just wanted you to realize that I wanted to join the Defence Force,” he said calmly. “I felt like you weren’t paying attention to me.”

“Don’t I make you dinner every night? Talk to you about the Monado and all your research and your Mechon crafts?” Dickson turned around, pushing his hip into the edge of the counter and shuffling the pan. “Kid, if you feel like I’m not paying attention to you, then you gotta repeat yourself. Things tend to leak out of this old brain of mine.” He tapped the side of his head with one finger.

Shulk’s stomach curled with guilt. “I guess I should have talked more about it.”

“All the same, if you said it before and I wasn’t listening, then you got every right to be yellin’ at me.” He turned back toward the stove. “We’ll get you ready for those tryouts. You’ll be swinging a sword around in no time.”

“I hope so,” Shulk said, sheepish. He lifted the glass of milk and took another sip.

—

The doctor recommended Shulk begin a very low dose of ether supplements and increase it if he still had issues with fatigue and weakness. Even a small dose made him feel a little less shaky and a little more alert. After taking the supplements for a few months, he could really feel the difference. The side effects turned out to be minor. His cheeks were rosy when he first started the supplements, and his hair started thinning and getting pale.

Apparently, the milk and the medicine helped, because he made the Force on that round of tryouts, just after he turned fourteen. And the Colonel, knowing he worked with Erik and the Monado, assigned him to train with Dunban. Reyn, who’d delayed his tryouts for a year after Shulk failed, also made it in, though he was assigned to a high-ranking officer named Kantz. Shulk was beyond excited to finally start training with Dunban. He would alternate training days with Erik and Dunban, so he got three days with each and the usual day of rest.

“This is what you’ll start with,” Dunban said, handing Shulk a wooden sword. “It’s best to learn on this so that no one gets hurt, and it’ll help you get used to the feel of a sword in your hand. First, you have to learn how to properly grip your weapon with both hands…”

Shulk copied Dunban’s grip, and watched intently when Dunban adjusted his hands. Lifting the sword, he watched Dunban swing, and tried a few practice swings of his own.

“Good,” Dunban said. “The rest of your body is important, too. I see you’re putting a lot of weight behind your strikes. You’ll lose your balance and fall forward if you do that.”

“Then how should I swing?”

“You need to evenly balance your weight on both feet. I can tell your right side is your dominant side, because you’re leaning into it when you swing. But if someone swings back at you, you’ll be thrown off-balance easily.

“First, steady the core of your body.” Dunban stood up straight in front of him, his feet slightly apart. “Right here.” He waved his hand over the space between his ribs. “Your power will come from here—where your ether lives—not from your arms themselves.”

“Where my ether lives,” Shulk echoed. Stiffening the muscles in his core, he spread his feet in a wide stance.

“You’re still leaning on your right foot,” Dunban said. “Distribute that weight evenly. Bend your knees just a little, and lean down just a little.

“No, no. Put equal weight on both feet. You’re still leaning heavily into your right foot…”

Shulk was baffled by the preparation that went into a proper fighting stance. He hadn’t known anything about equilibrium and balance and tightening one’s core. And he had hardly taken his first few swings. He was impatient to see his wooden blade clash with Dunban’s, but he was willing to be patient if it meant learning from the best.

His next session with Erik dragged on for the first twenty minutes since he was still thinking about swords, but once Erik introduced him to a new project—creating a sword out of Mechon parts—Shulk was thrilled. Erik had given him the chance to combine his longest ongoing interest with the new prospect of training. The Mechon that fell from the Bionis’ Leg had blades sharp enough to serve as weapons. Shulk filed them so they were less like switchblades and more like the blade of a sword. It was hideous to think about how the Mechon must use those sharp blades.

“Why do the Mechon want us dead?” Shulk asked, when Dunban had given him a break.

Dunban set down the canteen he had along with him. He hadn’t had a drink on the first day of training, but he’d been slowly sipping from it in between demonstrations, and Shulk felt knots in his stomach whenever Dunban unscrewed the lid.

“Do you think they have a reason?” His breath was bitter with the faint stench of alcohol. Goosebumps rose on Shulk’s arms, not entirely from the early evening wind. “If they did, we might have been able to convince them to stop attacking us. But so long as they continue, I doubt that they are even capable of reason.”

He lifted his canteen and drank. It almost seemed like he didn’t care whether Shulk knew what he was drinking. Shulk said nothing about it. Instead, he lowered his head and lifted his hands to look at his fingernails.

“Is that why the Monado was created? To stop the Mechon, because they don’t have reason?”

“Who knows? The Mechon might have been attacking us for longer than any of us have been alive. My only concern is being able to fight them off when it matters. Why question it?”

“I don’t know.” Shulk picked at his cuticles. He’d mainly just been trying to start a conversation. But remembering the switchblades he’d made into his new sword, he really had to wonder. “It just seems odd, doesn’t it? To make literal killing machines to fight the peoples of Bionis?”

“So, you think they’re manufactured? We’ve always disputed the origins of the Mechon, but we’ve never been able to push past Sword Valley to invade their fortress. It’s too heavily guarded, and we don’t have the forces necessary to proceed onto the Mechonis.”

“So they have a fortress.” Shulk looked at Dunban. “How are things going with the Monado?”

“The Monado is a very powerful blade, and difficult to control. I have to limit my exposure to it to an hour or less a day until I can fully control it. Dean’s orders, not the Colonel’s.” Dunban stared at his palm, curling his fingers into his hand. “The Monado has its own powers. Have you noticed?”

“It seems to have its own aura,” Shulk piped up. “Even when it’s at rest, I can feel that there’s almost a cloud of ether surrounding it.” Oddly, he was more sensitive to ether now that he’d been taking the supplements, almost attuned to its presence.

“It is like an aura. But the aura changes.”

“Yes, there are those symbols on the central component, which is made of glass. I think those symbols can be changed. I’ve seen two or three so far, but I’m not sure what they mean.”

Dunban smirked. “How about this? If all goes well with our current regimen, we can take a look at the Monado at the end of the month. We’ll figure out those symbols together.”

Shulk raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“You’ll have to come on Saturday after you’re with Erik, so you’ll be here a little longer than usual. And before you ask Erik, ask Dickson first.”

“Absolutely! Did you know that the sword itself is made of a mysterious material that appears to be synthetic but isn’t cold like metal or lightweight like wood? And the blade isn’t really _there_. It’s like it’s made of light. Or maybe it’s some kind of ether. Have you ever tried to touch it? I’m dying to know what it feels like!”

Dunban chuckled, patting Shulk on the shoulder. “I’ve never seen you so excited! Erik was right. Once you get going on something you’re really interested in, you’re impossible to stop.”

“Oh, sorry.” Shulk’s cheeks flushed. “I don’t really get much of a chance to talk about the Monado except to Erik and Dickson, and I think I’ve about talked their ears off by now.”

“Why don’t you tell Fiora and Reyn about the Monado?”

“I do, but…” But it was always exciting to have someone new that he could tell everything he knew about the Monado to, especially because they might not know some of it. Fiora and Reyn had already heard dozens of times that the blade of the Monado was like a beam of light, and they were probably tired of how much he talked about it. But Dunban hadn’t heard all the facts Shulk knew about the Monado.

“Maybe training with the Monado will be a good time to talk about auras,” Dunban said. “Make sure you work on your stance at home. It’ll be important to get into combat before we start on auras.”

“Of course,” Shulk said, getting to his feet. The sky was darkening. Dickson would be dismissed soon, and he would come to pick Shulk up. Their break had lasted much longer than it should have.

He looked down and watched as Dunban steadied himself against the ground, then suddenly swayed as he stood up. Shulk tensed, fearing he would fall forward, but he only stumbled slightly before regaining his balance. He had lectured Shulk about the importance of retaining one’s balance, but he couldn’t even stay on his feet.

“Dunban—” Shulk started, but he lost his train of thought when Dickson called out, “Hey, you two!”

“Dickson,” Dunban said. In his peripheral vision, Shulk could see his mentor straightening his spine. “I didn’t expect you to get dismissed so soon today.”

“It’s getting dark. No sense in staying outside so long.” He set his hand on Shulk’s shoulder. “He’s not giving you too much trouble, is he, Dunban?”

“Not at all. Shulk is an eager student.”

“Guess I’ll see you around then, eh, Beast?” Dickson said.

Shulk looked at Dunban. He’d never heard that nickname before.

“See you later,” was Dunban’s quiet response.

Shulk walked home silently with Dickson. “See you later” made him suspicious. He knew Dickson sometimes left the house late at night, because sometimes he had trouble getting to sleep, and other times he had to stay up and do homework by the light of an ether lamp because he’d built a house out of Mechon scraps instead of doing his work. When he started something, he had to finish it, even if it was exactly the opposite of what he was supposed to be doing, which led to many late nights.

They got home and closed the door behind them. Before Dickson had the chance to walk back to his room to change out of his Defence Force getup, Shulk stood in his way, folding his arms.

“What’s the big idea, kid?” Dickson quirked a brow.

“Dunban doesn’t look good. He can barely stand sometimes. I know it’s because—” Shulk hesitated. It was hard to keep looking at Dickson, let alone keep talking to him, but if he was going to say it, it was now or never. “I know it’s because he’s always drinking. And, well…” He swallowed. “That’s why you leave the house late at night sometimes. Because you’re going to the pub with him. Aren’t you?”

“Where did this come from?” Dickson put his hand on his hip. “Dunban’ll be fine. I can tell he’s had a few by the time he gets to the pub sometimes, but he’s built up a tolerance to it.”

“ _Built up a tolerance_? Dickson, how long has this been going on?”

“It’s just like water to him, just like it is to me. I’m sure the kid—the Beast is fine. Nothing wrong with packing a few away every day.”

“Every _day_?” Shulk cried, clutching Dickson’s arms.

“Maybe not every day.” Dickson shrugged.

Shulk stuttered. He was having trouble finding his words. “But—but I saw it. During training. Just now. He could hardly stand up. And when he doesn’t have it—” _He has headaches. He gets angry._ Just like Dickson when he was out of cigars.

“Look, kid, Dunban’ll be fine. And if he really is having problems, it’s not your job to clean up after him. Let Fiora take care of it.”

“Dickson!” Shulk stood steady as Dickson shoved him out of the way, walking back toward his room. “Don’t walk away from me! How can you just—?” Did he really not realize that something was wrong with Dunban? Or was he just trying to make Shulk forget about it, just so he could take Dunban out drinking with him again?

Either way, Shulk suddenly felt powerless. If talking to Dickson wouldn’t solve it, how could he possibly confront Dunban about it?

—

Balancing his weight evenly on both feet, Shulk squared up before Dunban. He held the sword he’d made in the lab last week with Erik, both hands clutching the hilt. Dunban gripped his katana with both hands, standing still as a stone. Then Shulk charged, Dunban meeting his blade with a metal clang. He could feel the tension and pressure building. Stepping back, Shulk went for another swing, the tips of their blades colliding.

Dunban backed away, lowering his blade. “Fantastic, Shulk. But,” he said, before Shulk could thank him, “your arms are still unsteady. Have you been doing your whole routine, or are you skimping on the press-ups?”

“It’s the bar,” Shulk admitted. “It’s tough pulling myself up the whole way.”

“You need to build up strength in your entire upper body. Lifting a sword every other day will only help you so much. You need more muscle mass here.” He gestured loosely to his shoulders. Then he got into a fighting stance again. “But your stance has improved in just a few short weeks. I’m having much more trouble throwing you off balance than before.”

Shulk mirrored Dunban’s stance and met his swing. When they unlocked, he tried another hit, but Dunban parried him quickly. Before, Shulk hadn’t realized that swordsmen could fight with different styles, but when he compared the fighting styles of other soldiers to Dunban’s, it was clear that Dunban had earned the right to wield the Monado. He was quick and agile with his blows, and when he used auras, which he hadn’t yet used with Shulk, he moved like lightning. Shulk couldn’t hope to match Dunban’s speed or power, but he could certainly build up more muscle and become more used to wielding a sword.

But as skilled as Dunban was, alcohol remained his greatest weakness. When he’d come to train on Saturday a couple weeks ago, after he and Dunban had talked about auras and the Monado, the Colonel had pulled Dunban aside. Shulk hung his head and wrung his hands while the Colonel and Dunban got into a heated argument. The following week, Dunban’s breath hadn’t smelled like alcohol. He’d had a headache every day, and he’d been even more unsteady. But the week after, he’d snuck it in, stored in a flask. He’d drunk the whole day, and he’d been _better_. His reflexes had been quicker, but most of all, he’d been calmer. It was kind of like how Dickson said he felt itchy when he hadn’t had a smoke, but far, far worse.

Shulk had been so relieved the first day he’d come to training and he hadn’t smelled the alcohol on Dunban’s breath. But he’d snapped at Shulk the whole day. _Pay attention. Focus. What are you doing? Bionis to Shulk!_ Dunban could be blunt sometimes, but when he hadn’t been drinking, he could be downright cruel. He knew Shulk had trouble paying attention, and until that week, he had only been understanding. He bent Shulk’s arms into place roughly, a stark contrast to the gentle hands and calm voice he’d come to expect. In battle, he would usually hold back a little because Shulk was still learning, but that week, he hadn’t, and when Dunban’s blade came too close to his face, Shulk pushed him away, palms sweating, jaw trembling.

_What’s wrong with you today?_

Dunban hadn’t given him an answer, just scolded him and backed away. But Shulk swore his expression had been shameful.

“You’re distracted again, Shulk,” Dunban said, withdrawing his blade and stepping back. “Exams are coming up. Fiora’s worried, and I’m sure you are, too. Would an early dismissal be better? Or perhaps we can shift to another topic?”

Shulk lowered his sword. “If we’re going to look at the Monado soon, I guess it might be good to talk more about ether and auras.”

He’d promised they’d take a look at the Monado at the end of the month, but after the disaster of the second week, Shulk had insisted on one more week to build up his strength. Dunban had already told him that drawing on inner ether required physical strength, and Shulk didn’t want to pass out while trying to channel his ether. He had enough trouble with his ether levels already.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a break first?”

“I’m all right. I’m not tired or anything.”

“I don’t think you’re tired.”

Shulk looked up, then immediately lowered his head. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Dunban.

“Are you worried about school?”

“Not really,” Shulk said. Could he really come out and ask him about it? He wasn’t even sure where to start.

During the week when Dunban had stopped drinking during training, he’d tried talking to Fiora. She’d been absent one day. The next few days, she hadn’t looked up during class at all, and during lunch she’d gone and sat by herself, away from Reyn and Shulk. Reyn just shrugged and continued eating, but Shulk couldn’t stand seeing her in such a low mood. In spite of all the times she’d spaced out during class, Fiora had always been the happiest one in their group, or so he’d thought. She’d always been the one to lift them up after they’d all flunked an exam. She baked cakes and breads, and she’d made many friends by feeding them. She always rubbed Shulk and Reyn’s backs when they were frowning. And she had just as many wild ideas to get _in_ trouble as often as she figured out how to get them _out_ of trouble. The three of them had been friends since they’d first started school, and he wasn’t going to let Fiora push them away without knowing the reason why she wanted to be alone.

“Hey,” he’d said, sitting down underneath the tree.

“Oh… hi, Shulk.”

They were silent for a little bit while she stared the remains of her lunch. There was a small flatbread she’d baked, sitting in the corner of her lunchbox soaked with sauce. That bread reminded Shulk of Fiora’s current mood. Something was eating at her and making her feel all soggy.

“So what’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Really? But you’ve been down all week. Even I can see something’s wrong.” Shulk stared at the soggy bread. “Is it…” He hesitated before he whispered, “Is it Dunban?”

His shoulder was just barely touching Fiora’s, but he could feel her go rigid next to him. “Why do you think so?”

“Well, um…” He’d never really discussed it with Fiora before. Even if she knew that they knew, when they talked about Dunban, it was only in relation to the Monado or silly, harmless things like his cooking mishaps. “He’s been out of sorts during training, and I guess that’s the same way for you and him at home.”

“He’s been awful,” she said. Her voice sounded empty. “When he doesn’t have it, he’s bad. He yells at me, sometimes for no reason at all. He has headaches all day. Sometimes even migraines. But when he does have it, when he really goes too far, he gets sick. And sometimes he passes out before he even makes it upstairs.”

Shulk’s heart dropped into his stomach. He remembered when Dunban had wavered on the steps, falling to his knees, telling Shulk to _get out before Fiora comes back_. He didn’t know what to say.

“Now because he can’t have it during the day, he’s getting worse at night.” Her voice was choked with tears. “I just want him back. The brother that I knew.”

Any apology that Shulk could have offered would have felt weak. And now, standing and looking at Dunban, he wasn’t sure where to start. Should he tell him what Fiora had told him? Did she even want him to remember that?

“I don’t know where to start,” Shulk finally managed, just barely meeting Dunban’s eyes.

Dunban raised his eyebrows. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me.” Shulk paused, feeling his stomach turn. What if he made Dunban angry by asking? He wanted to remain a good student in his mentor’s eyes. Was it wrong to ask about his personal life? “Ah, um. What’s it like living with Fiora?” Well, that had been the totally wrong thing to ask. But he couldn’t help it—he’d panicked.

Dunban quirked his brow. “That’s what you wanted to ask?” He smiled. “Well, I’m sure you knew, but she reads out loud when she studies. It’s hard for me to focus on my books when she’s doing her own reading in the next room.”

“So you like to read, too?”

“Now and then. It helps me relax.” He sat down on the pavement, laying his sword down beside him, and Shulk slowly followed him. “Hmm, I believe the last book I read was about the ancient civilization of the Giants. If you know Shura, she’s one of the premier archaeologists investigating that. Her theory is that the Giants originated from the head and shoulders of the Bionis, and may be connected to the most ancient forms of life on the Bionis itself.”

“Oh, I love archaeology,” Shulk gushed. “I have a book about Giants’ ruins on the Bionis’ Leg. Did you know they created stone pillars as markers for exploration? And that their architecture changed in size over the years? Arnaut and Dean have been developing ether dating technologies that help link the ether content of a structure to its relative age. The most recent structures are the ones that are smaller in size, meaning the Giants shrunk over the years.”

Dunban laughed. “I appreciate your enthusiasm for such a mundane topic.”

“Mundane? Ether dating is a cutting-edge technology. Though we haven’t been able to employ similar technologies with the Monado. Perhaps there’s just too much ether in it to determine when it was really created.”

“Now that is curious,” Dunban said. “Sounds like something Dean would say. But, to return to our original topic, Shulk, I’m glad that Fiora’s learning how to cook. It used to be our mother doing all the cooking, and I don’t know my way around a stove to save my life.”

“Was your mother a good cook as well?”

“She was handy in the kitchen, and knew her way around the garden. I can’t do either of those things, but at least I’m handy with a sword, and I can defend those who aren’t able to fight.”

Shulk’s shoulders slumped. Dunban had never really talked about any hobbies other than fighting before. It seemed that the only person he wanted others to know about was Dunban the soldier. But he also enjoyed reading, thought architecture was boring, and couldn’t cook or garden to save his life. Fiora didn’t see a soldier when she looked at him. Who was Dunban, really? Was the Dunban who trained Shulk the same as the Dunban who Fiora had lived with her whole life? What kind of person was he?

He couldn’t play games with his mentor to get to know better. He couldn’t exactly ask him about his most embarrassing moment, or to tell two truths and a lie and guess which one was the lie. But Shulk talked about himself and his interests all the time. He knew that there was more to Dunban, but he couldn’t help feeling like Dunban was sealing himself away little by little, and that the alcohol he turned to probably played a large part in that front he presented to Shulk. Dunban was a Homs. He wasn’t perfect. He made mistakes. But reconciling Dunban as a person with the soldier he’d admired when he was young seemed impossible. He’d always seemed so cool and so composed. But Shulk knew the truth now—that Dunban was a _mess_ —and it hurt.

“That doesn’t have to be all there is,” Shulk said quietly.

“Hm?”

“I mean, I want to fight to protect the colony just as much as you do, but I want to do it for my friends, for Dickson, for you, and everyone else. Fighting isn’t what life’s all about. Maybe—maybe you should try gardening. Or come and help me out in the lab.”

What good would that do? Shulk knew what the problem was. It wasn’t as if a distraction would solve it. But somehow, it seemed like the problem was the distraction. It must have started as a distraction. Then it became an addiction, and that addiction became a problem.

“Are you worried about me?” Dunban almost sounded shocked.

Shulk’s heart skipped a beat. He’d been talking around it this whole time, but he still couldn’t confront it head-on. He didn’t know how to bring it up. It was probably better if he didn’t say anything else.

“I have to go, actually.” Shulk stood up. “Reyn wanted to study for the exams. He’s probably out getting some fresh air outside the colony, maybe taking a break or something. I’ll see you on Friday, Dunban. Bye!”

He bolted out of the Military District, his head spinning as he ran. He hadn’t even planned to look for Reyn that afternoon. He’d mentioned something offhand about studying together, but when Shulk had mentioned his training with Dunban, he’d made a face and said about starting his training with Kantz. Why had he made a face? Shulk really wanted to know now.

He was running aimlessly around the outskirts of the colony when he suddenly crashed into Reyn, who knocked him onto the grass. Brushing his bangs out of his eyes, he got to his feet and forced a smile. “Hi, Reyn.”

“Oi, Shulk, where’d you come from?” Reyn raised his eyebrows. “You’ve still got your sword’n’all! Something go wrong with Dunban today?”

“No,” Shulk said, maybe a little too quickly. “Well, it’s just… Can I ask you something serious?”

“Of course! I’m your best mate, ain’t I?”

“What do you think of Dunban, honestly?”

“What do I think of him? Did you guys have a fight?”

“No, we didn’t!” Shulk spat. “Just tell me what you think of him!”

“Sorry. I know, I shouldn’t go assuming. What do I think of him? He’s the best guy in the whole Force. Best one they’ve got. He’s calm and level-headed. And he’s got all it takes to be a hero.” Scratching the back of his head, he added sheepishly, “But he’s got the worst sense of humor. Half the time I can’t tell when he’s joking or when he’s being serious.”

“Don’t you realize that’s what he wants you to think?”

“Huh?”

“He _wants_ you to think he’s perfect! He acts like he’s just a calm and skilled fighter, but he’s falling apart underneath all of that. Something’s wrong with him, but I don’t know how to help him. Where would I even start?”

“Something’s wrong with him?” Reyn frowned. “You mean the drinking? He’s kinda always been that way, hasn’t he?” Before Shulk could interrupt, he furrowed his brow, frowning. “Besides, it ain’t fair you get to train with Dunban and I get Lieutenant Kantz. You’ll never meet a more uptight bloke in your life.”

“I’m telling you, you don’t want to train with him,” Shulk said, but as soon as he said it, he realized that he didn’t really believe it and that it was a huge mistake. Of course he had always wanted to train with Dunban, and always admired him since the first time he’d seen him. Of course he still felt a little thrill every day he arrived in the Military District, in spite of the disgust and fear he felt when he smelled the alcohol on Dunban’s breath. And of course Reyn, who had always thought, just like Shulk, that Dunban was the coolest soldier in the Force, would envy Shulk getting to train with Dunban. It wasn’t that Shulk didn’t want to train with Dunban. It was that, for as much as it helped him, it was hurting him, hurting his heart that the mentor he was building a bond with was, at the very same time, destroying himself from the inside.

“Yeah, I _do_ ,” Reyn snapped. He folded his arms tightly across his chest. “Lieutenant Kantz is awful. I’d take Dunban any day over him. Don’t matter how bad Dunban’s doing.”

“It doesn’t _matter_?” Shulk nearly shouted. “What about Fiora? You remember what she was like two weeks ago! She would barely even talk to _me_!” Reyn’s eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open, but Shulk didn’t care what he was going to say. “You know what? I was going to ask you to study with me, but now I don’t care. We can both fail the exam for all I care!”

“But, Shulk,” Reyn said, voice faltering. “I didn’t…”

Shulk didn’t look back, storming toward the Residential District and toward home. He didn’t answer any of Dickson’s questions at dinner, and when Dickson left late that night while he was cramming for the exam, he sobbed into his notebook, the ink turning runny with his tears.

—

Shulk had trouble concentrating during the exam, more than usual. No amount of jiggling his leg, pushing back his cuticles, or bunching the edge of his sweater in his hands could help him focus. The words seemed to fly off the page, and his mind was going to dozens of different places that had nothing to do with the history of military forces on Bionis. During lunch he sat next to Fiora, then, uncomfortable with being across from Reyn, said he was going to sit with someone else, and ended up sitting on his own. He didn’t walk home with them, and when he got to the Military District to work with Erik, he struggled to focus on the weapon he was building.

Erik sent him home early. Shulk knew he and Dunban would finally be working with the Monado tomorrow, but with the way things were going with Reyn, it might be hard to concentrate. He threw himself into another project at home to get his mind off their argument, and when Dickson asked if something was wrong at dinner, he said nothing, again. He kept working on his project until the clock hit midnight. Then he set down his tools and lay down on the floor, staring at the ether lamp burning on the ceiling.

In half an hour, Dickson would leave to go out drinking with his mates. Shulk had suspected for months that Dunban was among them. But how could he stop Dunban? It wasn’t as easy as sneaking out of the house to tell Fiora to tell Dunban not to go, and it wasn’t as if they would be able to stop him anyway. He’d been doing it for years now, and the few attempts he’d made to break out of that cycle, he’d been forced by the Colonel. Dickson didn’t even think it was a problem, so how could Shulk possibly convince him? Not even Reyn thought it was a problem. Shulk rolled onto his side, facing the closed door to his room, one arm outstretched toward it. He stared at the door until he saw an afterimage of the wood grain when he blinked.

It was better to focus on what he could control. He knew that from years of struggling with physical weakness and trouble focusing and interacting with people. But this was not completely beyond his control, and it hurt every time he knew he should speak up yet couldn’t gather the courage. After his falling out with Reyn, it was hard enough thinking about standing up to Dickson or even comforting Fiora, much less confronting Dunban directly. Yet here he was, thinking that was the best thing to do, that he could at least try. That he could show his bravery by refusing to let Dunban keep hurting himself, and that maybe Dunban would be happy that he’d reached out, or even that he’d noticed.

But when he thought about it more, he realized that he didn’t really care if it impressed Dunban or not, even if he’d always wanted to impress him. Dunban had helped him. He’d helped him learn how to fight. He’d always listened to him, been patient with his struggles, and helped him become stronger. Now it was Shulk’s turn to help his mentor in return, to give back all that he’d taught him and help him become stronger. Dunban could, and would, move past this.

When he saw the Monado strapped to Dunban’s back the next morning, Shulk’s worries were replaced mostly by excitement. A wide grin lit up his face, and Dunban returned it with a smile of his own.

“Your notes were useful,” Dunban said. “I was able to use ‘Buster,’ and I also discovered another aura that will help us in the future. Draw your sword and stand back.”

Shulk followed Dunban’s instructions. Dunban activated the Monado, and quickly gained control over it, only struggling a little before he swung it in a broad arc. Purple ether emanated from the Monado, and Shulk gasped as his own sword suddenly glowed purple before the ether evaporated.

“What does this do?” Shulk asked. The ether surrounding his sword distorted the air slightly.

“Try hitting that Mechon shell next to me.”

Shulk noticed the Mechon carcass at Dunban’s feet. Swinging downward, he gasped when his blade cleaved it cleanly in half, rather than simply sparking against its surface.

“I proposed the name ‘Enchant,’” Dunban said. “No doubt it’ll be useful in the upcoming conflict. We’ve gotten wind of a bit of a disturbance on the Bionis’ Leg. Colony 6’s Force is down a few members, so I and some of the trainees will be heading up there to back them up tonight.”

“You’re going on a mission?” Shulk hadn’t heard anything about this from Dickson. “How long is it supposed to take?”

“As long as it takes. But I’m looking forward to it. I haven’t gotten a chance to be in action with the Monado yet.” Before Shulk could say “good luck” or anything else, Dunban continued, “So we’ve got to get through today’s training quickly. Were you able to practice finding your inner ether?”

Shulk swallowed. “To be honest, I wasn’t really up on things the past few days.”

“No matter. We’ll figure it out as we go.” He pointed to the space between his ribs. “Your core’s where you draw on your inner ether. If you focus your core and concentrate on something you want your ether to do, you might be able to channel it.

“Everyone’s inner ether is different, which means everyone has different auras. Where most of my auras make me quicker, yours may make you stronger, or help heal those around you.”

“Heal?” Shulk lowered his sword slightly.

“Of course. Not all healing is done with ether catalysts. But healing auras are rare and often very weak.”

“Can you show me one of your auras?”

Dunban nodded. Closing his eyes tightly, he remained still for a moment before a purple and blue aura clouded around him, reaching toward the sky in wisps that seemed to toss his wavy hair lightly around him. “Now, Shulk.” He opened his eyes and drew the Monado. “Try and hit me!”

Shulk drew his sword and lunged at Dunban, but before he could even lock their swords, Dunban dodged him effortlessly. With a noise of confusion, Shulk turned around and tried to land another hit on the Monado, but he missed. Every hit he tried seemed impossible, but when Dunban swung at him, the Monado’s blade phased right through his weapon and cut it in half, the tip of the beam of light grazing his shoulder but leaving him unharmed.

“It seems I hit you,” Dunban said, walking over to look at Shulk’s shoulder. “But…”

Shulk looked at his unaffected shoulder. “It didn’t cut me. Not even my shirt is torn.”

Dunban raised his finger to the tip of the Monado’s blade, but when he poked it, his finger was unaffected. “Interesting.” He waved his whole hand through the blade, but it passed through entirely. “So it can’t hurt Homs?”

“Of course…” Shulk nodded in realization. “It was made to hurt Mechon.” He looked up at Dunban. “What was that aura?”

Dunban lowered the Monado to his side and bent his knees slightly. The purple and blue glow still surrounded him. “This is ‘Serene Heart.’ It allows me to dodge more quickly and land more hits on you.”

“Then I’d better watch out!” Shulk cried, aiming for the edge of the Monado with the intact half of his sword. But Dunban blocked him.

Shulk tried concentrating on his core, trying to think about what power he might want in this fight with Dunban that could help him. But nothing felt different. He took another swing at Dunban, missed, and stepped back as Dunban swung the Monado, slicing the air between them. Then Dunban deactivated the Monado and placed it on his back, his aura fading.

“I tried drawing on my inner ether,” Shulk said. “But nothing feels different. Is something supposed to feel different?”

“You have to really focus on your core. It might not also be the right time. For some, it only works in pinch situations.”

Shulk frowned. Maybe it was because of his ether deficiency. “Can I still be a good fighter without auras?”

“It’ll come to you in time, Shulk. Perhaps today’s just not the day. Your mental state might be out of sorts, and that could prevent you from drawing on your inner ether. Some days are easier than others.”

He was definitely speaking from experience. “I don’t want to run you out of inner ether if you’re going to be heading up the Bionis’ Leg tonight.”

“You don’t have to worry. I won’t run out.” He smiled. “In fact, I’m feeling better than usual today.”

The dark circles under his eyes weren’t nearly as deep as usual, and he’d been smiling a lot today. When the Monado was in his hands, he was confident and full of energy. He’d never seen Dunban look happier. But how could he smile so widely when he knew he might die in battle? And what was going to happen after he returned?

“Dickson didn’t tell me the Defence Force had a mission,” Shulk said, looking at the ground.

“That old fossil’s not coming. He’s staying behind to look after you, Reyn, and Fiora. We still need backup here in case they reach Colony 9 or try a sneak attack, so only a few of us are going. There’s no need to worry.”

Shulk’s shoulders untensed, but only slightly. He lifted his hands and started to pick at his cuticles, still unable to meet Dunban’s eyes.

“Shulk, what’s wrong?” Dunban paused. “Are you worried… about me?” When Shulk said nothing, he ventured, “Because of Fiora?”

“It’s not just because of Fiora.”

“Lift your head. I can’t hear anything when you talk to the ground.”

Shulk raised his head, but averted his eyes. “It’s not just because of Fiora. It’s…” It was now or never. He was afraid he would forget to say it if Dunban came back injured. And he would never get to say it if Dunban didn’t come back. But if he lived, and continued doing what he’d been doing—

“It’s about your drinking,” Shulk said. He glanced at Dunban quickly, but couldn’t discern a change in his expression. “If you come back alive, you can’t keep drinking like you have been. You’re going to hurt yourself and Fiora.”

The silence was overlong and agonizing. Shulk pushed hard on the cuticle of his thumb, his nail slipping and leaving a red scratch on his skin.

“Hm. I appreciate your concern.”

Shulk met his eyes. His expression had hardened, his mouth a thin line.

“But if I don’t, I won’t be able to stay awake to fight this battle.”

Shulk’s heart dropped into his stomach. He clenched his hands into fists, lowering them to his sides to clutch at his sweater. He wanted to yell at Dunban, ask him how he couldn’t realize, how he didn’t know he had a problem. But he’d said, _I appreciate your concern_. Whether that meant he realized or not, what he’d said after that made it clear. He wasn’t planning on stopping.

Shulk said nothing else for the rest of the time, unless Dunban asked him a question. He didn’t try conjuring an aura again, and when Dunban realized he was still distracted, he let him go early. He had barely left the Military District when Fiora, standing at the gate, ran up alongside him, clutching one elbow with her hand and frowning.

“Shulk, did Dunban tell you about the mission?”

Shulk nodded, not bothering to meet her eyes, and looking instead at the bridges out of the Military District.

“Me and Reyn are supposed to stay with you and Dickson tonight. His foster parents are going, too.”

“I know.”

“But first, I have to stop at home. There’s something I have to pick up there.”

Shulk walked beside her until they reached Dunban’s house on the edge of the Commercial District.

Once they were inside, Fiora locked the door behind them, then she turned around and faced Shulk. “Follow me upstairs.”

He followed her, unsure why he couldn’t just wait downstairs until she got whatever she needed. She ran up the stairs, knelt beside Dunban’s bed, and lifted the bedskirt, stuffing it underneath the mattress. Then she started pulling out glass bottles of varying sizes, half-full of liquids in shades of amber and mahogany.

“Don’t just stand there,” she said. “Check the other side. Check behind the sword rack, too. Under his desk. It could be anywhere.”

Removing the broken sword from his back, Shulk bent down and checked under the bed, pulling out more empty or half-empty glass bottles. Fiora found a few inside the desk and one hidden under the nightstand, and Shulk found three behind the sword rack. Then Fiora picked up a few bottles by their necks, holding them between her fingers, and threw open the door to the water closet. He heard the liquid sloshing as it hit the bowl, the handle jiggling, and the flush. He picked up as many bottles as he could handle, and poured them down the drain of the tub while she continued dumping the ones she was holding into the toilet.

Shulk turned to look at Fiora when he’d poured the last of his bottles down the drain, and watched her emptying the last of hers. The bathroom swam with the thick, chemical smell of hard liquor, and it was enough to make him start coughing and feel nauseous. He left the bathroom to sneeze a few times, and when his ears stopped ringing with the echo of his sneezes, he heard Fiora sobbing. She’d buried her head in her hands, leaning against the sink.

He wasn’t sure why, but he thought back to the first time he’d met her, and how she’d cried because Dunban was sad and afraid. Slowly, he approached her. He sat down beside her, bumping his head on the sink as he uneasily slung an arm around her shoulders.

“It’s all gone now,” Shulk said, though he knew that wasn’t much comfort.

“I want it gone from the whole colony,” she wailed. “From the whole Bionis.”

Unsure what else to say, he patted her shoulder.

“What if he doesn’t come back?”

“He’s going to make it, Fiora.”

“And even if he does, I know exactly what he’s going to do!” She slammed her fist against the toilet bowl. “His comrades are going to take him out drinking, just like every night! And _Dickson_ is going to be there!”

Shulk’s stomach burned with shame. His suspicion had been right all along. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ve tried to stop him before, but I just—”

“Just _what_?”

Shulk made an exasperated noise. “He just won’t listen! He’s just like Dunban. He doesn’t think anything’s wrong!”

Fiora sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. Her face was mottled red, her eyelids puffy. “But he’s all I have. He’s still my brother. And I know he’s in there somewhere.”

Shulk’s heart clenched. He bit his lip, unsure what to say. He had been friends with Fiora for a long time, and he loved her to pieces. It tore him up seeing her so distraught over what Dunban had become. It tore him up knowing what Dunban had done to himself. But he had no idea what would happen when Dunban left for that mission or when he came back. Either way, it wouldn’t turn out well. If Dunban didn’t kill himself on the battlefield, he could very well drink himself to death. Fiora could get rid of all of the alcohol he hid at home. But she couldn’t stop his comrades from dragging him to the pub.

“Should we talk to Dickson?” Shulk said.

“I don’t want to see his face,” Fiora snapped.

“Yeah, me neither. It was a stupid idea. Let’s go get Reyn. Then we’ll stay here overnight instead. Or at his place.”

He got to his feet, offering his hand. She took it and stood up, then walked to her room to grab a handkerchief, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose. She met Shulk downstairs, and they walked to the Residential District. They bumped into Reyn on the bridge.

“Dickson went out to get tonight’s dinner,” he explained. “Figured I’d take a walk. Clear my head.”

Shulk swallowed and averted his eyes. He still hadn’t apologized to Reyn, and Reyn hadn’t apologized to him, either.

“We’re staying at my house,” Fiora said. “I’ll explain why when we get there, but Shulk has to stop at home first.”

“Got it.”

They walked in silence, looking everywhere but at each other. Reyn and Fiora were both fifteen now. It probably wouldn’t matter that much if they stayed at Dunban’s place without anyone to supervise them. Dickson wouldn’t even have to cook for them, because Fiora could make dinner.

When Shulk got home, he took a change of clothes, his toothbrush and toothpaste, and his ether supplements, and threw it all in his bag. He exchanged his broken sword for a sword he’d crafted and packed his history textbook, which he knew he wouldn’t look at. He tucked a pillow under his arm and started downstairs, then he thought to leave a quick note for Dickson. He thought briefly to when he was nine years old and said he was going to live with Fiora and Dunban, and he’d written Dickson a letter goodbye. He’d only made it a few meters before Dickson had caught him. He hadn’t really been serious back then, but now, he felt like he really wouldn’t mind if he lived with Fiora and Reyn instead of Dickson. But Dunban… he couldn’t possibly live with Dunban, not anymore.

He picked up a pen and paper and scrawled a note:

_Dickson,_

_Gone to Dunban’s. Fiora and Reyn are with me. Fiora’s making dinner. Come over if you want._

He paused, then added, _Don’t take Dunban out drinking when he comes back. – Shulk_

It was really all he could do at this point. Even after pouring all the alcohol down the drain, he felt so powerless, and he knew Fiora felt powerless, too.

The walk to Dunban’s felt long. And it was too quiet.

“So what’s the plan?” Reyn asked once Shulk had shut the door behind them. “What am I not in on?”

Shulk glanced at Fiora. “Well, we’re staying here overnight to wait for Dunban, right?”

Fiora nodded. “I want to be here when he comes back. Because…” She hesitated. “I’m afraid.”

“I am, too.”

“You don’t think he’ll make it through? I mean—” Reyn swallowed. “I get why _you’re_ worried, Fiora. But he’s strong. He’s the strongest bloke in the Force.”

Uneasily, Shulk met Reyn’s eyes. “He’s strong enough to make it through the battle. But after that?” He shook his head. “You know what’s wrong with him. He’s not the amazing soldier you think he is, Reyn, that’s what I was trying to tell you.”

“All right, I got it. And it’s not like I’m gonna bow out on you two in a time like this.” He looked at Fiora. “My foster parents are going on that mission, too. All I’m hopin’ is that everyone comes back in one piece.”

It was all Shulk could hope, too.

They were quiet most of the evening. Dickson didn’t come over, Fiora made dinner, and they all crammed into Fiora’s bed that night, Reyn in the middle. Though Fiora’s quiet sniffling made him shiver, the rumble of Reyn’s snoring lulled Shulk to sleep.

—

Shulk was the first to wake up. He rolled out of Reyn’s grasp and stood up, changing out of his nightshirt and into a sweater. Fiora and Reyn followed soon after, and they all went downstairs to eat breakfast. Fiora went outside and tended to the garden, and Shulk and Reyn trained together. He and Reyn talked about the test. He’d had trouble focusing on it, too, and admitted he was pretty sure he’d failed. The house was deathly silent until dinner, when someone knocked just as they were sitting down to eat.

“So, Shulk,” Dickson said, sauntering in with the note in his hand. “You didn’t think I was gonna come check on you?”

Shulk’s shoulders tensed. “Hello, Dickson.”

“Hey, Dickson,” Reyn said.

Fiora took a bite of her dinner.

“If your plans change, you gotta tell me. You’re just lucky I was on patrol with the Force last night and all afternoon.”

Shulk set down his knife and fork. “You were called?”

“Just all the way up to Tephra Cave. But the new recruits and Dunban did great. The Beast was quick with the Monado and took care of ’em in a snap. So he should be back any minute now.”

“What about my foster parents?” Reyn said.

“Lance is doing fine. Adele has some minor injuries.”

“She’s hurt?” Reyn’s expression fell. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“I can take you to the Military District.” He scratched the back of his head. “Dunban should be coming home soon. He knows you’re all worried about him. What about you, Shulk? Coming with me and Reyn?”

Shulk spared a glance at Reyn, then Fiora. Dickson had come along and thrown a wrench into their plan.

“Are you okay to stay here?” Shulk asked hesitantly.

Fiora looked at Reyn. “You should go see your foster parents.”

Shulk mashed his lips together. He didn’t want either of them to go it alone.

“You can go, Shulk,” she said.

“Are you sure?”

“Go on!” She waved her hand. “Dunban might not be home until later.”

“He’ll probably be back by the time you’re all settled at home,” Dickson said. “Are you still not ready to go home even after spending all that time together?”

Shulk looked at Fiora and Reyn. “Um, do you remember that exam? The history exam? Reyn and I both did really badly, so we might get the chance to retake it. So we want to have some time to study with Fiora.”

“That’s what you were all worried about? And you can’t focus at my place, huh?”

“Yeah,” Shulk said, looking to Reyn and Fiora. “And if Dunban’s not home until later, then we can keep Fiora company until then.”

“Why don’t you just come on down to the barracks, then?”

“No!” Fiora shouted. “I mean—” She stuttered. “I’ve got to be ready to make dinner and all, so I should really stay here.”

Shulk’s stomach turned over. Fiora was determined to stop Dunban from leaving the house tonight. But what if they were already too late? Would he be in the Military District, or would he have left for the pub?

“Let’s go, Reyn,” Shulk said. “It’ll be quick. And if you need to go home, that’s fine.”

“Yeah,” Reyn lowered his head. “I’m just worried about Adele.”

“It’s fine,” Fiora said. “Not a problem.”

Reluctantly, Shulk and Reyn packed their bags and waved goodbye to Fiora. If they didn’t see Dunban at the Military District, Shulk was determined to run back to the Commercial District as soon as he got the opportunity to break away from Dickson. Once they’d arrived, Shulk looked everywhere, and there was no Dunban in sight. Reyn decided to accompany his foster mother back home, and Dickson ended up dragging Shulk home. When he shut the door, he turned around and folded his arms.

“You’re still a kid, you know.”

Shulk folded his arms. “I’m not a child. I’ve been training in the Force for almost two months, and I’ve been Erik’s apprentice for longer.”

“But I’m not going to let you out of my sight so easily. If you have plans to leave the house, you tell me ahead of time. Dunban put me in charge of you three for a reason. If I hadn’t been called to go on that mission, I would have at least come over there to watch you.

“I don’t know why you did it, and I don’t care. You don’t do things like that without telling me, Shulk. Even if there’s a good reason behind it. You say you failed that history test, but you don’t even know if you failed it or if you’re going to be able to retake it. I don’t think that was a good enough excuse for whatever you three were plotting.”

“Why didn’t you stop him?” Shulk snarled.

“The hell are you on a—oh. The Beast.” Dickson sighed. “Sorry, kid. I told him Fiora wanted to see him. I said I wasn’t going out to the pub. But you can’t just stop a man like that. He finishes his first successful mission, how is he gonna celebrate? Just like any other respectable bloke his age would. You get that?”

“No, I don’t!” Shulk threw up his hands. “I’ve tried and tried. But nothing seems to work!”

“Because there ain’t anything to fix. So what if he drinks? He does a fine job in the Force, and he was unstoppable with that Monado.”

Shulk blinked rapidly, trying to dam the tears that threatened to fall. “Why…” _Why don’t you get it?_ It was just like before. Dickson saw the harm that Dunban was doing to himself, and looked past it. Or… it was more like he just didn’t see it at all. He didn’t see it the same way Shulk and Fiora saw it. It wasn’t fun. It wasn’t for celebration or relaxation. It was self-destructive. He was ruining his life.

“You don’t get it!” Shulk shouted. “I’m sick of you making excuses for him. I can’t stand it. I…” He hesitated. Then he furrowed his brow. “I _hate_ you!”

“Now, _Shulk_ ,” Dickson started, furrowing his brow, but before he could continue, Shulk ran to his room and slammed and locked the door. He buried himself under layers of blankets and sobbed, hard. He didn’t make a sound when Dickson called dinner and knocked at his door, and he didn’t know how long he had laid there when someone tapped on his window and called his name, muffled by the glass.

Throwing off the blankets, Shulk stood up and walked over to the window. Fiora stood there, her purple shirt coming off her shoulder, her eyes shimmering. He opened the window just slightly.

“What’s going on?” he whispered. “Did he come back?”

“He passed out when he came home, and he hasn’t woken up.” She sniffled. Tears stained her cheeks. “I don’t know what to do!”

He lifted up the window the whole way and stepped out of it, then pushed the window down. “Let’s go!”

They ran through the Residential District. Reyn met up with them halfway, and Fiora filled him in as they ran. They burst in the door, and Shulk gasped. Dunban lay collapsed at the foot of the stairs.

“Is his heart still beating?” Shulk rushed to Dunban’s side, placing two fingers at the base of his jaw. There was a faint, but irregular pulse. He lowered his head to listen for breathing. “I can’t hear anything. I don’t know if he’s breathing!”

“What are you doing, Reyn?”

Shulk looked toward the kitchen. Reyn stood at the sink, filling a bowl with water. “All right, Shulk, move.”

Shulk stepped back, watching Reyn approach with the bowl. He poured some water on Dunban’s head.

“What are you doing?” Fiora shrieked.

“Snap out of it!” Reyn shouted.

Dunban’s eyes shot open, and he coughed, trying to sit up. “What the—” His body sagged onto the floor, and he groaned.

“Dunban!” Shulk cried. His core felt tight, like his chest was burning. “Hold on!” Placing his hand below Dunban’s shoulder, he felt the burn surge through his veins, before rushing like cool water from his fingertips. There was a faint blue glow as strings of ether appeared, then disappeared into Dunban’s armor and his skin below.

“Shulk…” Dunban coughed, sitting up. “What… was that?”

“I don’t know,” Shulk said. He placed his fingers at Dunban’s jaw again, then glanced quickly at Fiora. “His pulse seems like it’s improved.” He turned back to Dunban, removing his fingers. But before he could ask what had happened, Fiora stormed up to him.

“ _Dunban_!” She drew out his name, hands on her hips, her brow furrowed deeply.

“Fiora…” Dunban choked on her name. “I’m so—”

“I don’t want any more apologies!”

Reyn glanced at Shulk, and Shulk stood up, backing away and stepping quietly out of the house, leaving the door open just a tiny crack. Inside, he could only hear half of what Fiora was saying, not because the door was closed, but because her voice was fogged by tears.

“…and when you come home, you’re just not yourself! I’m tired of…”

Leaning against the side of the house, Shulk sunk to the ground, and Reyn sat down next to him.

“…enough! You have to stop _now_. You’re going to _die_!”

Shulk made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan and buried his face in his knees.

“Oi, Shulk.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“I get why you were all worried now. And I was a prat.”

“Okay. I accept your apology. And I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have given you the cold shoulder.”

“We woulda passed that test. Both of us.”

“I don’t think any of us would have passed it.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right about that.”

Silence, aside from Fiora sobbing and yelling. Shulk wasn’t even listening to what she was saying.

“How did you know what to do?” Shulk asked.

“What, the cold water?” Reyn sighed. “Lance drinks, too. That’s what Adele always does when he comes home late. He gets nasty when he has it and nasty when he don’t. Mess of a bloke.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Shulk paused. “Dickson drinks, too. But his problem is the smoking.”

“Yeah.”

“I tried to tell him something was wrong with Dunban, but he just didn’t get it.”

“So that’s why you wanted to stay with Fiora, even after he came back.”

“Because if he didn’t go to the pub in the afternoon, he’d go in the evening. With Dickson and all the rest.”

“Same with Lance.”

“But Dickson told him not to go. He told him to go home and see Fiora, and he still—” Shulk made an exasperated noise.

“You couldn’t have stopped him, Shulk.”

Shulk nestled his nose between his knees, hugging his legs to his chest and pushing them closer together. “I know. But I just wanted to help him.”

“You helped the best you could. You can’t beat yourself up about this stuff. You did what you could.”

“Yeah.”

“Speaking of help, what was that ether thing you did?”

Shulk lifted his head, pressing his chin into his knees. “I don’t know.”

“Huh.”

There was silence from inside. Shulk thought heard Fiora sniffle a few times.

“Shulk?”

“What?”

“I don’t care what’s wrong with him. Even if it upsets me, I can’t help but respect Dunban.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

The door creaked behind them. Shulk looked back, expecting Fiora, but instead, Dunban stood in front of them. His hair was still tangled. Shulk thought he saw tear streaks on his cheeks.

“Dunban,” Shulk said, unfolding his knees and lifting his head.

“Shulk, I owe you an apology. I tried to hide my dependence on alcohol from you for a long time, but what Fiora says is true. I have a problem, and… it’s not easy. It’s not easy for me to simply step away and give it up.” He swallowed, his lower lip trembling. “I tried to be there for you, but in the end, I was the one who needed help. Thank you for trying to reach out, even if I wasn’t quite… ready.

“And Reyn, I owe you an apology, too. Lieutenant Kantz told me you wanted to spar with me, and I should have talked to you about that sooner. You can also come and train with me and Shulk, but I won’t be able to teach you how to use a driver. That’s why you were assigned to Lieutenant Kantz.”

“I know,” Reyn said. “I was just jealous of Shulk, ’cause I wanted to learn from you.” He looked over at Shulk.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Shulk said slowly. “This has been very hard for you. More than anything, I’m just worried about you. It’s just that…” He swallowed. “You mean a lot to me, and not just because you’re Fiora’s brother and I’ve known you all my life.” When he blinked, a tear slipped out of his eye. “You’ll always be my inspiration no matter what, Dunban.” He sniffled, and felt Reyn’s large hand rubbing his back.

“That—” Dunban paused. “That makes me very happy. I’m very proud of how far you’ve come in such a short time.” He stooped to the ground so that he was at eye level with Shulk and Reyn, steadying himself against the pavement with one hand. “Fiora and I had a talk just now. I’m taking a week off from training, so Shulk, you’ll get to spend some more time in the lab with Erik. She’s going to stay with me during the day and make sure I don’t try to sneak out to go to the pub or buy anything to drink. We’re also going to talk to the Colonel about it so that he can keep his eye on me as well.

He sighed. “A week won’t be nearly enough time to recover completely, but I’m certain I can do it, no matter how difficult it’ll be. I want to do it for Fiora, and for you boys, too.”

“Do it for yourself, too,” Shulk said. “You’re important, too.”

Dunban opened his mouth slightly, then closed it. “Yes. You’re right. I need to take care of myself, not for anyone else’s sake, but for my own.”

He paused for a moment before he said, “By the way, Shulk?”

“Yes, Dunban?”

“That ether you used on me. It was very weak, but I think it brought a little of my strength back, as if you’d healed me. Is that something you already knew how to use?”

“No. It just came to me.”

“I see. Thank you for healing me. And for always looking out for me.”

“Of course.”

“Shulk,” Reyn said. “It’s pretty late. D’you think we should head home?”

“Yeah,” Shulk said, not resigned, but relieved.

Looking back up at Dunban, he was sure that his mentor had really been strong all along, that he’d needed that extra push to look back inside himself and find the strength he’d lost to his addiction. Dunban would always be one of the strongest people he knew, in body and mind, and no matter what happened, he would always be Shulk’s hero.

“Let’s head back, Reyn.”

—

_Epilogue_

Erik was probably getting tired of Shulk. He didn’t have to say it for Shulk to realize that he was sick of him talking his ear off about the Monado and the Giants and all those other topics that Dunban had called “mundane.” But Shulk didn’t feel guilty for rambling anymore. Now when he rambled during lunch at school, Fiora’s face lit up and she asked him questions about the latest book he’d read, and Reyn laughed and said, “Typical Shulk.”

Three months had passed since Dunban’s first mission. He stood taller these days. He didn’t have any more headaches. And the dark circles under his eyes weren’t nearly as deep. He was even faster during training, and his auras shone stronger than they had the first time Shulk had seen them. Shulk was getting better at drawing on his own aura. When he got overenthusiastic and cut Dunban’s shoulder during training, it came in handy. And when he was tired, he felt his inner ether flowing through his veins, soothing his aching muscles. He was thankful for the way the aura warmed him.

Getting to fight Reyn was always fun. Fiora said she wasn’t quite ready to start fighting, that she worried enough about Dunban as it was. Maybe she’d have something to fight for in the future. But she was right. She’d had enough to worry about. She was smiling now. She walked with a spring in her step and chatted strangers up, just like the old Fiora.

And Dunban… he was never in a bad mood, just blunt. Sarcastic, like Reyn had said. But he laughed far more often, and spared a smile now and then. He even took Shulk out for lunch a few times, and walked around the Commercial District with him and Fiora. Shulk even finally saw where the pub was. Dunban passed it by without a second glance.

“I’m thankful I get to train with you,” Shulk told Dunban, while polishing one of his new Mechon-bladed swords one afternoon, slightly after his fifteenth birthday.

“I’m glad to have you, too,” Dunban said with a smile, and Shulk knew just how much he meant it, and how thankful he was that he and Shulk were not just mentor and protege, but friends who looked out for each other and supported each other. Shulk was certain that as long as Fiora, Reyn, and Dunban stood beside him, their lives would be beautiful and their futures bright no matter how much they struggled, because they had each other.


End file.
